


Pinky Promises and Last Apologies

by vaguesalvation



Category: the GazettE
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-16
Updated: 2011-10-16
Packaged: 2017-10-24 16:48:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaguesalvation/pseuds/vaguesalvation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akira just wants to feel normal. Taka, as usual, makes this a little difficult.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pinky Promises and Last Apologies

He was almost asleep when he heard it. It was a faint, hardly noticeable tapping against the window in his bedroom and at first he was afraid of what might be the cause. There were no trees around this part of the apartment complex, and there was no wind to rattle the glass against the wooden frames. He thought maybe it was one of his neighbors. The kids in 9D didn’t really like him much, so it could have easily be one of them trying to play a joke. Or maybe it was the old woman who lived in 6A, who was senile enough to mistake his window for her front door.

But when he listened closer, sat up a little in his bed to see the person’s silhouette, he knew who it was, and he felt his stomach drop even as he was climbing out from under his covers and stumbling over to the window. He slid it open with little effort and moved out of the way, making room for the other to step over the sill and into his room.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he said, taking a step back to look at the boy.

Taka pulled his oversized hoodie off and let it drop to the floor, nodding his acknowledgment of Akira’s words. The older boy wanted to sigh and roll his eyes but didn’t.

“Is it raining?” he asked instead, taking a different approach, because for all the big statements Taka thought they were making, the other boy appreciated subtlety.

“My dad kicked me out,” Taka said, no preamble, no warning, nothing, and Akira was a little shocked to be honest.

“What?”

“Yeah,” they moved away from the window, because, actually, it was raining, and his pants were getting a little wet. He pulled Taka along by the shirtsleeve, because Taka would probably stand in the rain all night without even noticing if someone let him.

“What happened?”

Taka shrugged, like it wasn’t even a big deal that he was kicked out of his own home and he was standing in Akira’s bedroom at two in the morning, drenched and shivering. Akira had the sudden urge to pull his friend into his arms, if only for a moment, just to keep him warm.

He refrained.

“He took my phone too,” Taka explained, folding his arms over his chest and shaking some of the water from his hair. It ran in rivulets down his neck that Akira thought he probably shouldn’t notice. “I would have called you first, but… yeah. I figured here was safer than Kouyou’s.”

Safer because Kouyou’s parents would have heard if some lunatic was trying to climb into their son’s bedroom window. But Taka would have known not to worry about that with Akira’s parents, mostly because Akira’s parents weren’t home.

“If my mom finds out about this…”

Taka scoffed. “Your mom loves me.”

“Seriously, Taka—”

“Look,” Taka sobered, his face suddenly solemn, “I know, okay? I just… I didn’t know where else to go.”

Taka’s eyes were red and swollen, black liner smudged, and normally Akira would have just assumed it was from the rain, but he had a feeling Taka had been crying. He’d never actually seen the younger boy cry, or show much emotion at all really, aside from irritation and sometimes resentment, but he knew that Taka wasn’t above feeling depressed or frustrated.

Akira sighed, his shoulders slumping, and nodded. “Yeah, it’s cool, man.”

“I’ll be out before your mom gets home in the morning,” Taka promised. He tugged at the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it away from his chest. The fabric was dark from all the rain it had absorbed, his jeans as well. “You wouldn’t happen to have dry clothes I could borrow for a few hours, huh?”

“Uh, yeah, hang on.” Akira walks to the small set of drawers next to his bed. To most it would probably serve as an end table, but most weren’t as bad off financially as his family. He’d gotten pretty accustomed to making do with what he had.

He dug through the top drawer, careful not to make too much noise. It was a wonder they hadn’t woken his sister or his grandmother yet. He wasn’t about to take any unnecessary chances. Though, if someone were to ask, he’d say that keeping his best friend off the streets was more than necessary. His mom would feel so bad that she would have to let Taka stay. He’d talk to her in the morning. Maybe she could talk to Taka’s parents.

A pair of his old gym sweats and cheap cotton tank in hand, he turned back to the other boy. Taka had already started stripping himself of his wet clothes, pale skin glowing in what little light was coming in through the blinds over Akira’s windows. Akira coughed uncomfortably, shifting his eyes to the wall as he stretched his arm out.

“What?” Taka chuckled, his voice soft as he traded Akira’s dry clothes for his wet ones, “never looked in a mirror before? I don’t have anything you don’t, I promise.”

Akira laughed and he hoped the sound didn’t come out quite as nervous as he felt. True, Taka wasn’t some deformed mutant, he had all the same limbs and hair that Akira did, but, well, that was the thing, wasn’t it? Taka was completely normal, so Akira should have felt completely normal toward him. Only, Akira’s feelings for Taka were anything but normal.

At least, he didn’t think fantasizing about his friend, about kissing him and holding him, was normal. He was sure Taka didn’t think about him like that, or Kouyou for that matter.

“What do you want me to do with these?” Taka asked, pulling Akira from his thoughts. Akira looks up at his friend again, finds Taka standing closer than before, wet clothes in his hands, gaze questioning.

“Oh, uhm…” Akira took the wet clothes, “I’ll hang them up.”

Taka nodded. “Thanks.”

They stood for a long moment, silent, before Taka raised an eyebrow and Akira was startled into motion again. He slipped past Taka, heading toward his bedroom door.

“Hey,” he started, just before he stepped into the hallway. “Mom made dinner before she left for work, those short, hollow noodle things. With tomatoes. You want some?”

“Did she put that green, leafy stuff on top this time?”

“Basil? Yeah, why?”

“No thanks, then,” Taka shrugged, a sharp motion in the dark of Akira’s bedroom. It made Akira pause, both the movement and the message behind it. He knew Taka must be hungry, could tell by the way the younger boy’s collarbone jutted out starkly, how his bones stretched his skin thin and pale. He wondered if, given the chance, he could count Taka’s ribs. He wondered if Taka would let him, would just lie still and let himself be explored, pinned down, figured out.

Akira nodded and left his friend alone in his bedroom. He trotted lightly toward his bathroom, where his mom kept the towel rack when it wasn’t set up on their small balcony. He hung Taka’s clothes up after wringing them out a few times over the sink, stretching them out so they were sure to be dry come morning. His mom wouldn’t be home from her shift at the motel until almost nine, but his sister or his grandmother might get up before then. He didn’t want to explain to anyone why he had another boy’s clothes hung up in their bathroom. As frustrated as it made him, it probably was for the best that Taka leave as soon as it was a little light out.

Maybe he could convince his friend to go home. Taka and his dad fought all the time, so it wasn’t as if the younger boy was unused to swallowing his pride and asking for forgiveness, though it usually took much stubbornness and angst to get to that point. It couldn’t have been that bad, whatever it had been this time round. Normally the two fought over stupid stuff, the kind of stuff Akira’s parents used to fight about before his dad took off. But Taka wasn’t like Akira’s dad. He was smarter than that.

Taka was sitting on his bed when Akira got back to his room, his legs folded underneath him as he flipped through a small notebook stretched out on his lap. He’d turned Akira’s bedside lamp on, casting the room in a faint, warm glow. It made Taka’s skin look less pale, more human. His hair was an intense shade of red now, where just a week ago it had been a sickening orange-yellow. Akira was sure it would all fall out someday soon.

“Kouyou’s parents gave him the money to get his guitar fixed today,” he said as he shut the door behind him. Taka jumped a little, though anyone who hadn’t been watching as intently as Akira had wouldn’t have noticed.

“Really?” Taka smiled and folded his notebook closed again, setting it on the table beside him. “How many shifts did he have to cover at the store to convince his dad of that?”

Akira chuckled, hesitating only a little before sliding onto the bed beside his friend. His bed was small, probably not logically wide enough for both of them, but they seemed to fit. Taka reached up to turn his lamp off again.

“I think they felt sorry for yelling at him about that geometry test? The one his teacher mixed up with some other guy’s.”

Taka scoffed, moving to slide his legs under the covers when Akira held them up. They settled on their sides, facing each other, and Akira tried not to think about how close they were.

“All the teachers at your school are full of shit,” Taka said, “though mine aren’t much better. Fuck it. School’s bogus. It’s not like they’re teaching us anything we’ll need in the real world.”

“Yeah, but what are you gonna do about it?”

It was meant to be a rhetorical question, but the silence that filled the space between them then was thoughtful in a way that scared Akira. He wasn’t looking for an answer, because there wasn’t one, but it was clear from the way Taka’s gaze slipped down to settle on Akira’s neck, lips opened just so, that Taka was looking for one.

“Taka—”

“I’m going to leave.”

Akira shot up quickly, twisting to look down at his friend. Taka just peered up at him like nothing had changed in their positions at all. And that was just like Taka, to pretend like nothing was happening, like he wasn’t spouting off nonsense and scaring his friends, his family. Akira wanted to shake him. Sure, they’d talked about it before, he and Taka and Kouyou, about skipping town and going to the city, about starting a band and making it big. But it had just been talk.

Hadn’t it?

“Wha—are you crazy?” he asked, his voice a little louder than it probably needed to be.

Taka sighed, the sound heavy, like Taka was tired of having to carry the air in his lungs all the time. Anymore, that’s just what Taka sounded like; heavy, tired. Akira wondered when it had become so normal. When Taka sat, much slower than Akira had, he was even closer than before. Akira had to squint to make out his eyes in the dark.

He tried not to flinch when Taka’s hand came up to wrap around the back of his neck, tried not to close his eyes when their foreheads collided. It was unusual for them to be so close. Taka wasn’t normally so touchy, but the younger boy’s breath against his lips felt warm and smelled almost sweet, like the cherry slushies they always shared after school at the 7-eleven down the street. His laughter sounded more like a sob, but Akira didn’t say anything.

“You sound like my dad,” Taka said.

Akira wanted to say he was sorry, but he couldn’t, he wasn’t sorry. He was scared.

“Why are you here?” he asked instead.

This time he was sure Taka was crying. He could feel the hitch of Taka’s breath, the shakiness of it. He waited; let Taka sort the words out in his head. He could be patient when he needed to be.

“Because,” Taka said eventually, voice barely a whisper, “you get me. Sometimes I feel like you’re the only one who does.”

Akira sighed, bringing his hand up to fit it over Taka’s on his neck. His stomach was in knots, his heart pounding in his chest, but he ignored all that.

“Then wait,” he said, “just a few more months. Wait it out. If you still want to leave, fine. But you’re not leaving without me.”

Taka sobbed again, but this one sounded more amused, more like the laughter it was supposed to be. Akira tightened his hand around Taka’s.

And then, suddenly, the space between them closed. Taka’s lips on his were only the barest pressure, for the briefest moment. It could hardly even be considered a kiss, but it was there, and Akira’s head felt like it was going to explode.

And just as soon as it had started, it was over. Taka pulled away slowly, but still too fast, and his fingers slipped too easily from Akira’s hand.

Taka lay back down, on his side, the same way he’d been lying before, and closed his eyes. He seemed totally unaware that Akira was still sitting up, trying to figure out what had just happened. There wasn’t really much to figure out, on the surface anyway. Taka had kissed him, so what? Taka was strange, and did things that didn’t always make sense to other people. But it seemed different, this kiss, maybe not much in the way of meaningful exchanges or whatever, but just… different.

He was careful not to jostle the bed too much as he lay back down. He watched Taka for a few moments, the subtle fluttering of lashes on pale cheeks, the steady rise and fall of slim shoulders as Taka breathed. In the morning, Taka might not even remember what had happened, and Akira was suddenly grateful he’d been the one his friend had come to.

He’d just closed his eyes again when he heard it. It was faint, hardly noticeable.

“Aki?”

“Yeah?”

“…thank you.”


End file.
